


I do it for you

by old fics (Lothiriel84)



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/old%20fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite his past selfishness, now there were people that mattered to him more than himself. People whose safety came first, at any cost. He was prepared to give up his last shot at happiness in order to protect them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "I would fight for you - I'd lie for you / Walk the wire for you - yeah I'd die for you / You know it's true / Everything I do - I do it for you" (Bryan Adams)

He had never given any serious thought to the _after Red John_. Had he been asked, he surely would have answered that the chance for him to finally move on didn't seem very likely.

Reality had proved him wrong, anyway. Now that Red John was out of picture at last, he had actually found out that restraining himself from moving on was far much harder than he had ever believed.

He had to, nevertheless. Despite his past selfishness, now there were people that mattered to him more than himself. People whose safety came first, at any cost. He was prepared to give up his last shot at happiness in order to protect them.

The only problem was that one of those people seemed to have no intention of letting things go as he planned.

At that precise moment she was sitting on the edge of his couch, playfully teasing him about the fact that he still hadn't spoken a word since the morning. The guys were out on the field, and the two of them were alone in the bullpen.

"Still sulking about that woman's flippant remark? Come on, Jane, we both know you actually couldn't care less. Especially since she's a suspect in a murder investigation".

He just stood still – his eyes closed – hoping that she'd eventually let it go and leave him alone.

She started pinching his arm instead. "You're such a child sometimes. Let's go and have a bite. It's my turn to buy. If you behave, I might even get you a sundae".

"Stop it, Lisbon".

She recoiled at his curt reply. Even without looking at her, he knew she was hurt. Well, however unpleasant, he couldn't avoid that.

"Stop what, Jane?"

He felt a sudden twinge in his stomach. He was going to regret that. No more friendship, no more enjoying their usual banter. Yet he couldn't bear the situation any longer.

Better to plunge into it and have it over.

"You know exactly what I mean. I'm none of your brothers. I don't need you to mother me".

"So that's what you think of me?"

Her voice was shaking with anger now. He had to dig his nails into his palms in order to prevent himself from telling her the truth. The truth of his feelings for her.

"Fair enough. I won't bother you again. Sorry if I thought we were friends".

He heard her stride out of the bullpen. When he was sure she was gone, he got up and headed towards Hightower's office. Better to quit with the CBI too.


	2. Chapter 2

Three months. Three months had passed since Jane had left the CBI.

Lisbon still couldn't believe it had really happened. She had always thought that Jane actually cared for her – even after his own fashion. She had thought that their friendship meant something to him. She had even thought that, when Red John was dealt with at last, he would be ready for… well, something more. Moving on. Starting a new life.

Maybe that was exactly the point. Maybe Jane still had issues about Red John's arrest – though he had agreed to her plan at the time.

And now he was gone. That was that.

She'd better stop thinking about him. Surely he didn't deserve her tears. There was no point in crying over spilled milk, and she knew it.

If only…

Her musings came to a sudden halt as someone knocked at the door of her office.

Van Pelt came in before she had a chance to say anything. She actually couldn't remember the last time she had seen the redheaded agent so upset.

"What's going on, Grace?"

The younger woman took a few seconds to strengthen herself before breaking the news to her boss.

"It's about Jane. He's been hit by a car as he was walking down the street to his motel. A witness says the driver did it on purpose. An ambulance is carrying him to the hospital right now".

Lisbon's mind went blank for a moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Lisbon had taken it upon herself to search Jane's motel room. She'd rather have it this way – couldn't bear the thought of some random police officer prying into his belongings.

Moreover, she couldn't stay at the hospital. She really didn't like the prospect of breaking down and crying in front of her team.

So there she was now. Looking into his wardrobe – only to find out that it _did_ consist entirely of three-piece suits. That nearly made her smile. She just hoped to have a chance to tease him about it.

 _He'll be fine_ , she told herself for the umpteenth time. _He has to_.

Her mind refused to consider his death a possibility. She'd never live through it, anyway.

A sigh escaped from her lips. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Not that she expected Jane's attacker to leave a note in this room. There was just a forlorn hope that maybe Jane himself had left some kind of clue about his – or her – identity.

The little drawer in the nightstand refused to open. Lisbon briefly searched for the key, then forced it open. It was Jane's life that was at stake, after all.

The first thing she found was a small picture frame. She felt a pang in her chest as she realized _whom_ the picture did portray. Jane's late wife and daughter. Angela and Charlotte.

She'd never had the chance to see them. They surely had been very beautiful. Especially the little girl – whose eyes were undoubtedly like Jane's.

She carefully placed the frame on the bed, then took out the small wooden box that constituted the remainder of the drawer's contents. When she lifted its lid, surprise took her breath away for a moment.

It was pretty much like a child's box of wonders. There was a charm bracelet – _her_ bracelet, the one she had broken some six months ago and thrown away. A receipt for two brownie sundaes – that they had probably eaten together. The small gull-shaped paperweight she had given him as a present for his last birthday. A post-it note in her own handwriting – something about a case they had closed long ago.

Then, at the bottom of the box, there were several snapshots. Of her – alone, or together with other members of her team. There was even a photo of her and Jane, a photo she didn't remember had ever been taken. He had probably told her something funny, since they were both laughing – his arm around her waist in order to keep her from falling.

It was at that moment – the wooden box still clutched into her hands – that she realized how much Jane cared for her.

_Loved her._

He had probably been keeping her at arm's length all the time just in order to protect her from himself, or something equally absurd.

She sunk to her knees, shaking with sobs. She should have understood this long ago. She really should have seen through his pretense of not caring about her.

Now he was lying in a hospital bed, and maybe she'd never get the chance to tell him how stupid he had been. Because she loved him too.


	4. Chapter 4

"Boss, I think we have her".

"Her? Is it a woman, then?"

"Yeah. Van Pelt found out something about a certain Debbie Grant".

"Debbie Grant? Is she Roger Grant's wife?"

"That's it. The one Jane tricked into proving her husband guilty of murder. Her car matches the description given by the witness, and she had it fixed for a dent on its front bumper a couple of days ago".

"Exactly after Jane's accident. Yeah, I think she's our woman. Go and get her".

"Rigsby and I are already on our way".

"Thanks Cho. Keep in touch".

She hung up her cellphone and went back to Jane's room. Doctors said that his conditions were slowly but steadily improving. However, he hadn't regained consciousness yet.

She sat down next to his bed, entwining her fingers through his. Now that they had removed the respirator, he just looked like as if he was asleep. His face was pale but peaceful – as peaceful as it probably hadn't been for many long years.

On a sudden impulse, she leaned forward and placed a small kiss on his forehead. Then another one, this time on his cheek.

"Jane, please, wake up", she murmured softly into his ear.

She brushed her lips gently against his, and her heart skipped a beat when she felt him stirring beneath her.

His eyelids flickered, and she heard him muttering something unintelligible.

"Jane? Jane, can you hear me?"

Finally he opened his eyes, his gaze still hazy for a moment. Then, as he recognized her, the ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Teresa…", he managed to whisper – affection so obvious in his voice that tears suddenly welled up in her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

"So you got her?"

"Of course we did. And Cho had her confessing to the attempted murder. She didn't even stand a chance with him".

Jane smiled. Trust Cho to get a confession from a suspect.

"Well, that's a relief. I'm not really looking forward to being attacked again. It still hurts like hell".

Rigsby's face went serious. "You got away pretty well with it, all things considered. Mild concussion and a broken arm aren't too bad if you think you could have died instead".

"Thank you very much, Rigsby. That really makes me feel better. Not to mention the fact that you're forgetting my three broken ribs".

"Shut up, Jane", Lisbon interposed. "You should be grateful, instead of making sarcastic remarks".

"I _am_ grateful. That doesn't mean I have to be happy about my broken ribs – or my broken arm, for that matter."

"I think I have to go now. Good luck with him, boss".

"Don't worry, I can handle him. Just as I've done for the best part of the last eight years".

As Rigsby left the room, Jane shot her a quick glance.

" _Handle_ me? Really?"

"Yeah, Jane. I'm perfectly capable of it. I can be as stubborn as you are, don't you know?"

He let out a sigh, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Sure thing she could. That was the problem.

"Lisbon, please, don't".

She sat down on the edge of his bed.

" _Don't_ what, Jane? I warn you, you're not going to fool me this time".

He closed his eyes. No hope for it to be plain sailing. Damn.

"What if I don't want you to handle me?"

"It's not like you have much choice on the matter".

"That's abuse of power".

"Call it whatever you please".

"Lisbon…"

She cut him off by pressing her lips on his. He tried to resist for a few seconds, then yielded and kissed her back.

"Teresa?"

"Mm?"

"We shouldn't be doing this".

"Why not, Patrick?"

Good question. He desperately searched for a plausible excuse, then decided she at least deserved the truth.

"Because I don't want you to end up dead – murdered by someone who wants to pay me back for something I've done to him".

"I can look after myself. I'm a cop, after all".

"And cops never end up dead, do they?"

"That's not the point, Jane".

"It is".

"No, it isn't. I'd rather be happy than safe, and you know it perfectly well".

"You can be happy _and_ safe. I'm sure you'll meet the right man someday".

"What if I've already met him?"

"Me? You must be joking".

"I'm just asking you to give us both a chance to be happy".

"Damn, woman… if anything bad happens to you…"

"What would you do, Jane?"

"I'll kill you!", he replied half-jokingly, as he draw her to him and kissed her again.


End file.
